Daryl's Nightmare
by kclaura2003
Summary: Daryl dreams Beth as a walker. One-shot.


**One-shot based off a fanart found on tumblr by audreylynnart. **

**I do not own The Walking Dead. Enjoy! :) **

**Daryl's Nightmare**

The sun was setting behind him in the west as Daryl moved throughout the tall, skinny Georgia pines. He felt the squirrel carcasses hanging from his belt bouncing against his thigh as he walked as carefully as possible, trying not to attract any unwanted attention to himself, from walkers or from any unfriendlies. His mind wandered to Beth, the girl he fled the prison with, the girl he had been spending the last six months with. He pictured her there at the moonshine cabin, where they had been holing up at, stoking a low burning fire, with a pot of beans simmering, waiting for his arrival with the meat, sharpening the knives so she could help him skin the animals.

Every day from hunting, he was excited to come "home", he guessed that was what it had become to them. If the world hadn't ended the way it did, they'd look like any other backwoods man and wife, living out some suburbanite's dream: living in the woods, living off the land, just having enough and each other to make them happy. And she made him happy. Happier than he ever been in his life.

Daryl froze in his tracks when he heard something shuffling up head. He crouched down and his hand went to unsheathe his Bowie knife. He watched and waited. Sure enough, a figure shambled by. By the way it limped and groaned, he knew it was a walker. It didn't spot him at all, in fact it didn't even turn its head his direction. Daryl glanced around, to his sides and behind, to double check to see if there were any more following in tow. He waited. There was nothing.  
He stood, still holding his knife ready, watching the walker slowly disappear through the trees. Painfully slow would be the more accurate term. He squinted his blue eyes and realized the walker looked more like a shadow than anything else, it looked like a silhouette of a person, but he couldn't make out any details of who they used to be. Was it a man? A woman? It was too tall to have been a child. He couldn't even tell what kind of clothes they had on.

Normally, Daryl would have shrugged it off, counted himself lucky and moved on. However, he was intrigued. He felt himself take a few steps forward and then a few more. There was something so strange about it, Daryl determined as he stalked. He figured the walker would have heard him by now or at least picked up his living scent but it remained completely oblivious to him or to anything else.  
As he gained on it, the walker gradually becomes clearer. The black silhouette started to take shape and he could tell it had to been a woman. Her clothes became visible, too. A grey cardigan hung loosely on her body, what was left of the fabric, was torn off in patches. What had once been a light wash pair of blue jeans was now stained with dirt and blood.

The walker abruptly stopped, knelt down and began feeding on something, still unaware of Daryl being right behind her. As he moved closer, more details came into view. On her feet was a pair of cowboy boots, slate grey. He felt his heart racing as he could recognize those boots anywhere and he highly doubted there had been another girl out there with those exact same boots. He felt his hands trembling; sweat dripping down his brow, his breathing growing heavier and heavier. Her hair, what was once a golden blonde color was matted with forest debris and blood. It could be any girl, he tried telling himself. This could have been anybody…this isn't her! This isn't my Bethy!

But he knew it was when he saw that single strand of braided hair. That little braid, he loved to twirl around his finger, while lying next to her in bed, after making love.  
A sob escaped his throat and apparently that was all it took for her to finally notice him. She slowly stood and turned.  
Daryl stumbled backwards, crying and violently shaking his head at the sight. It reminded him of the way he found his dead brother, who he also discovered like this, only in much worse shape.

Gone were those bright green eyes he'd find such hope in. Gone was the beautiful, soft face he loved to caress. The lips he used to swear he'd never want to stop kissing were now rotted, blood-stained, and covered with particles of flesh.  
She kept her cold, dead gaze on him for the longest time. He wondered if maybe, just maybe, she remembered. Remembered who he was, who she was. Daryl went to open his mouth, to say her name but no words could out. No, he thought. She doesn't remember. She can't remember. She's dead! She's dead, she's dead, she's dead, she's dead…dead, dead, dead!

**...**

He shot straight up in bed. He sat there listening to himself pant, letting his bare chest rise and fall. His hand went to his head to wipe the sweat off his brow. It took him a few minutes to realize it was only the nightmare again. He wasn't sure what brought it on. It didn't happen every night but when it did, the more real it seemed. He turned his head and sighed with relief at the sight of a safe, sound, sleeping Beth next to him. She was rolled over on her side, facing away from him, her hands underneath her head. He softly chuckled thinking of the sweet smile that must be on her dreaming face. Daryl scooted back underneath the covers and positioned himself next to Beth. He gently stroked her blonde locks, finding the braid, and twisting it in his fingers. His hand went to her shoulder and rubbed it.

"Beth," He whispered. "Bethy, baby…Wake up,"

At first she didn't respond. He gave her shoulder a more firm shake and finally Beth stirred. He felt her legs stretch out underneath the covers.

"W-What?" She replied, softly and groggily. "What is it, Daryl?"

She lazily flopped over and buried her head in his chest, too sleepy to be bothered.  
Daryl smiled; loving the warmth of her body pressed so close to him, her bare smooth, long legs intertwining with his.  
He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a tight squeeze. She gave a slight purr at the motion and he could feel her smile on his chest.

"What is it?" Beth asked again, but still halfway asleep, her eyes still closed.

"Nothin', honey," Daryl replied, feeling bad he even tried to wake her up in the first place. "Go back to sleep."

But she didn't need him to tell her that. He knew she was already asleep again. He envied her in a way, that she could sleep so deeply.  
He continued to stroke her hair as he took pleasure in listening to the rhythmic sounds of her breathing. As she slept, he thought about the nightmare again and it while it still lingered in his mind, it was starting to fade away. He eventually drifted off to a peaceful sleep, quietly making himself a promise that he would never let that nightmare become a reality, ever.


End file.
